


Leather, Plaid, and Hoodies

by CLP



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Dead Claudia Stilinski, Derek Hale & Scott McCall are Related, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, I don't know what I'm doing anymore I'm so tired, M/M, Multi, No Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Spark Stiles Stilinski, True Mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-03 18:04:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17288813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLP/pseuds/CLP
Summary: Once upon a time there was a wolf who fell in love with a clumsy hunter. Every night, the wolf climbed up to the hunter's bedroom window and waited until the rest of the hunters went to bed. And when they did, the wolf and the hunter fell more in love.(The tags are going a mess for now but don't worry, I promise there's nothing bad here)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are...
> 
> I don't know what to say but THANK GOD I'M FINALLY DONE WITH THESE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS. Obviously, there are going to be some changes but I don't really care at this point. I'm just glad it's out no matter if it's bad or people hate it.
> 
> Anyway, there is one thing I wanted to mention. When I was writing these two chapters, I used Ian Nelson's appearance in my head rather than Tyler Hoechlin's for right now. I have a reason for doing this, but I have to keep that a secret for now. Please don't get mad at me, it will change later on.
> 
> Just chill for now  
> and Enjoy (because I'm so done)

They arrived to town in early November, Derek remembers listening to his sister go on and on about them during an urgent pack meeting. The attractive strangers in the Chevy Impala were the talk of the town, his school, and his family's pack.  

Laura encountered the first one at her favorite bar, talking up all the girls while onlookers stared in jealousy. Although she was on a date with Parrish and the guy never came to talk to her, Laura still got a chance to hear the deep, smooth voice that left his lips as he seemed to charm everyone within the bar that evening.

The second one was spotted outside the Argents’ house by Peter, who reported with the most disgusting remarks about how he was the true definition of 'tall, dark, and handsome' with a dash of adorable paired with sexy. Derek didn't dare listen to the rest of the pack meeting after that, but he did hear Junior say, in his father's defense, that the guy was pretty tall.

Nobody had seen the third one until Erica claimed she saw him at the store, but he takes this knowledge with a grain of salt. "You couldn't tell it was him under that red hoodie. I 'bumped' into him and that hood fell down. He was so cute, Der, you have no idea! Melissa was even taken aback after I apologized for it. With all those pretty moles; I bet he's a supermodel!"

"I doubt they'll stay in town for long, it's not like many outsiders enter Beacon Hills to stay." He replied, rolling his eyes as he bounced his basketball on the ceiling.

“You never know,” she chuckled, letting her head curve up the wall to watch the ball, “maybe once you see him, you'll have the same reaction as I did.”

He only scoffs at her, hearing Junior from the floor above yell at him to quit it. He bounces it hard once in retaliation and laughs when he gets another reaction.

But, a week after school had started, one of the strangers entered their high school building alongside Allison Argent. His blood-red hoodie was large on his body, and his buzz cut hair left his honey-brown eyes on full display. The scent of dusty books, motor oil, and something else flooded his nose, leaving a heavy smell behind him as he walked by.

And, by God, does Derek have a reaction to him. It wasn't even him who reacted, his wolf growled and, before he knew it, the kid was being slammed against the lockers with his claws wrapped around his neck. Erica, Boyd, Scott, Cora, Junior, Malia and Isaac were all struggling to pull Derek away.

When the two of them were sent down to Principal Thomas' office, Gajos (Derek could only believe that was his last name) took the blame.

"I started the fight," he lied, Derek didn't need to hear the skip in his heartbeat. "I thought they were making fun of me, you know, being the new kid, but _clearly_ it was just a misunderstanding. Can we please let this go?"

Thankfully, neither of them got into intense trouble but they did have to take the day off from school. They were sat in the nurse's office, alone, waiting for someone to come pick them up and to nurse Gajos' scratch marks. However, no one does and Derek grabs a few paper towels, wets them and places the cold, damp material to Gajos' neck. At least he gets a closer look of him, now seeing that many moles are scattered on his face.

"I know what you are," he says. Derek stops pressing the paper towels to the kids’ neck, his eyes wide. "At least, I think I do. I mean, I'm not so positive on what I should believe but considering what happened today seems like it's plausible."

"What do you think I am?" He frowns, his eyebrows burrowing into his forehead.

"That bitch in the Argent house said you’re a werewolf. Says that your whole family is. But, my God, does she freak me out. How the guy she's dating handles her is beyond me." Gajos huffs, his knee hasn't quit bouncing up and down since they've arrived. It's pretty clear that the Argents haven't explained everything that they have in their pocket to this kid.

"Are you a hunter?" The slow hesitation in his voice is possibly noticeable when he asks this question.

"I thought you could tell," there's a small, playful gleam in his eye, "I'm an abominable snowman."

Derek gives him a funny look, his eyebrows raising at the questionable identity. The soft sarcasm is slightly annoying, yet attractive somehow. Even if he didn't have good senses, he'd know that what Gajos said was a lie since it sounded utterly ridiculous.

Gajos sighs, letting his hand pat his shaven head, he says that last part slowly like he's unsure. "I'm a researcher, you idiot. There's no such thing as an abominable snowman, I think."

"If I'm the idiot, then you're the moron. If you knew there are werewolves here, why didn't you drench yourself in wolfsbane?" Derek questions, with his eyebrows still raised.

Returning to nurture his wound, he pulls in a long breath. “It’s gross, I’d rather not get that on my hoodie. It’s only one of two and I’d rather not trash it any more than it has. You have no idea where this thing has been dunked. And-”

“It suits you.” He interrupts, trying to calm him. It doesn't.

“Thanks, Allison hates it.”  He turns to Derek, how his mouth continues to just talk and talk astonishes him. “She tried dressing me in something other than my flannels but gave up trying after a while. I hope I didn’t hurt her feelings, but, to be honest, I don’t look good in other pieces of clothing. She tried to get me in leather. _Leather, I tell you!_ As much as it looks good on my brother, there is no way it'd look good on me.”

“Allison Argent?” He asks for clarification, despite already knowing who she is and that the Argents had it out for his family.

“Yeah,” he smiles softly, “she’s my cousin.”

His heart skips a beat and Derek replies with a slow, “right.”

“Derek?” His mother's voice comes from outside the office doorway. “You in here?”

“Yeah, Mom, I’m here.” He answers although he isn't sure if Stiles heard her at all.

His mom enters the room not long after, her purse hung at her shoulder. “I’m a little disappointed I had to leave work. If I could, I would have had Laura come get you, but it isn’t my fault New York is so far away.”

"Who got to you first? Scott or Principal Thomas?" Derek grumbles, sounding more like a growl.

"Obviously your cousin," his mom huffs, sitting down in the nurse's chair. She turns to Gajos with her arms crossed and a look in her eye, an Alpha look. “So, you’re the boy that got my son in trouble.”

Then, Gajos starts talking a mile-a-minute again. “I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get you mad with Derek. It all happened really suddenly and I'm super, duper sorry that it all got out of hand. I mean, I'm not so great with social outings like new schools and stuff and I just-”

His mom chuckles softly, putting her hand on Gajos' knee to keep it from bouncing. Her gentle smile gets him to finally sit still. “It’s alright, dear. Seems like it's all being taken care of.”

There's a knock on the frame of the door, “got a phone call today, seems like somebody got schooled.”

Derek and his mom turn to see a fairly tall but very built man at the door. He has dirty blonde, spikey-hair and wears a suit and tie that matches his eyes. Laura was right, his voice was just as she described it, if not deeper.

“Oh my God,” Gajos winces, his head falling into his hands with the smell of embarrassment on him. “Dean, please, stop.”

“No way, kiddo.” The man - Dean - laughs, then flashes his mom a sweet, charming smile. He reaches a hand out for his mom to take. He introduces himself in a scarily calm way; his last name isn’t mentioned.

“Talia, Talia Hale.” She shakes his hand, giving him an equally charismatic grin.

“I should apologize for Stiles’ behavior, he’s not a bad kid. Just a few things we're trying to work on.” Dean says, sitting down on the nurse's desk. His scent is odd, full of apple pie, motor oil, and smoke. Something dewy as well, but Derek can't pinpoint if it's wolfsbane.

“I can see that now; he's very sweet. This must have been some misunderstanding. He's told us that you've all just moved to town, I can understand how that feels.” His mom says with a small, cheerful smile.

"Yup, and we'll be here for a while. Living with family at the moment." He rushes through his speech, and even though it's obviously a lie, Dean says it as if his words have all been said before. Like they've used and gotten away with this lie all the time.

“That sounds nice, I'm sure you'll have a good time being here.” Interrogation conquers her voice, although her smile still remains charming. “What kind of family you visiting?”

“Just cousins, our dad's side of the family.” Stiles shifts in discomfort, his shaky hands reaching for his backpack. His mother has taken his movement into suspicion just as fast as Derek has.

There's a long silence that stiffens in the air, leaving a strong band of tension until Dean breaks it casually. “It's been nice meeting you but we've got to get going. Come on, kiddo.”

Stiles waves after hopping off the matted cot “I-I’ll see you, Derek.”

“Uh-huh.” Is all he replies with, taking a long inhale of Stiles' lingering scent. They leave, shutting the door with no words left behind.

“Those two,” his mom's voice is low now, “the taller one smells off.”

“Stiles’ last name is Gajos, Mom.” Derek states. She doesn't respond, her mind focused on possibly listening to a conversation the two are having. Derek doesn't hear anything.

“His last name is Gajos.” He repeats for her.

“Gajos?” She pauses, biting her lower lip in thought, “there’s something not right about that boy.”

“Mom-”

“Yes, Der?” she asks. He pauses, rethinking his words before uttering them.

“I don't know if I'm right,” Derek says, heartfully, “but I think he's my mate.”

“Are you sure?”

Derek is positive. He's heard stories about humans being a werewolf's mate, they're very uncommon but not rare. And the stories his mother's told him, about True Mates just smelling absolutely right is exactly how he feels about Stiles. Derek realizes now what that something else is, it's fabric softener. Warm, pillowy, lollipop-scented fabric softener that was used time and time again to get whatever disgusting smells that were in his red hoodie out for good. And it's all over him. He never thought the smell of cheap fabric softener could be so good.

“I see,” she says slowly, watching him as he stares down the door for a moment. When she finally gets up, Derek follows behind with his backpack. The Chevy Impala is not in the parking lot.

“Derek, I want you to become close with that Stiles boy." His mom tells him when they reach the car. "We’re going to learn as much as we can about him and that man.”

“Why’s that?” He asks, his voice growing with worry. "You won't hurt him, will you?”

“No, Der," There's a long pause between her words. "It's just that Claudia Gajos died a long time ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this, please leave comments because I appreciate them!
> 
> Self Promotion (because why not)  
> Follow my Instagram (if you can and if you want) @clp_a_fanfic_writer to get updates on what's going on in my life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again,
> 
> Sorry if you see Claudia as OOC but there's not a lot of information on her to call her a fully fleshed out character so enjoy my rendition.
> 
> Also, I must give credit to Halevetica, creator of the Heaven and Hell series (or Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell so it's easier to find,) for the creation of the halfbreed story because I use that a lot here and I can't take credit for that.
> 
> Anyway enough explanations,  
> Enjoy

The Impala door slams shut, not hard enough to break the door, Dean would never hurt his baby but Stiles knows he's in for it anyway. The car starts and jolts quickly out of the parking spot.

"I thought we agreed to keep a low profile when we got here," Dean shouts, with on hand on the steering wheel and the other left sternly on his thigh.

"I remember." He says, breathlessly, pulling his red hoodie over his head.

"You remember?" Stiles swallows as his head hangs low. "Like hell, you remember! What were you doing with the thing we came to kill, Stiles?

"I didn't know that would happen!” He retaliates, his own voice raising to meet Dean's, “I was right behind Allison, just like you told me and the next thing I know, the lockers are right behind me! We're lucky his friends got him off me before one of the teachers came around. Otherwise, you’d have to explain to Dad why he only has two sons."

Dean glances under his chin, staring at the heavy claw marks made. His hand reaches under to see them more clearly, and sharply breathes in, "yeah, he got you good, kid. We'll have to bandage you up when we get back to the Argents."

He yanks himself away, "I'll survive, Jackass, I'm not made of sticks.”

"I know, I just want you to be careful. You're an absolute Punk when you want to be."

Stiles nods, the corners of his lips flickering to a smile, then he waits until Dean starts the car to slump down into the passenger seat and pull out his journal. There's a miniature map crumpled inside, covered in Xes, and only one circle. He marks an X over the circle, then snaps the book shut.

He took the journal when she died, just before his father took him away, it’s the only object he has left that reminds him of her. He’s lucky his dad has never found it. Everything else was either left behind or burned; he has no idea if the house is still around since there's been no time to check.

Stiles likes to flip through the many drawings that his mother left behind, some sketches, some in actual color, others are unfinished that Stiles doesn’t have the skills to complete. Half of the book is filled with his mother’s drawings while the others are his pages.

“I know you've had that thing forever but are you sure you don’t want a new journal?” Dean asks, taking glances at him, “you know, we can get you one.”

“Dean, if you had the chance to give up your mom’s ring, Dad's book of spooks, or Sam’s necklace for something better, would you do it?”

He thinks about it for a minute, maybe even less, letting his fingers rolling against the ring that he fitted for his hand. He lets out a long sigh, “point made.”

He doesn't mean to be snappy at his brother; Dean actually made an effort to come see him in Sioux Falls when he learned how to drive. Sam, not so much, but that never meant that he didn't care about him; he brought a new read every time he came to visit.

The drive doesn't take long, and he's grateful that the Argent household isn't too far from the school. Thanks to the large capacity of the house, all three boys have their own rooms for the time being. Don't get Stiles wrong, he did have his own room while living at Bobby's, but that didn't mean it really was his own. Rumsfeld often came to lug his large body and slobbery muzzle right on top of him while he slept and the place was cluttered with scrap metal and junk. However, that doesn't mean it's not home.

He rushes right past Sam and Kate without a word, he barely hears Dean explain what happened when he gets to the top. Stiles hops right onto the bed and grabs his pen. He flips through the pages, towards the last drawing before his own pages.

The last drawing his mother made is his favorite. It's in pencil, smudged against one side of the rough paper. The drawing is of a wolf howling at the moon who looks like a young woman. Stiles was always curious about who the woman was, and now, he thinks he knows. In small print with his red pen, he writes a name down underneath the cliff the wolf stands on. The next page is his own, with his sloppy handwriting that only he can read. Stiles knows it's wrong to keep information about, well, anything from his brothers, but even he knows he doesn't have all the conclusive answers. The story on the page is rewritten in a short fashion so Stiles doesn't have to read pages upon pages of notes.

> Halfbreeds - The original werewolves. 
> 
> When wolves and humans turned on each other, a group of wolves made it their life mission to kill all humans. As punishment, God decided that they needed to have the heart of man and made it so they craved the taste of hearts. The werewolves that decided to stay clear of man and live in hiding were given the ability to control their shift and blend with humans. 
> 
> Cursed werewolves = hunted.
> 
> Original/Halfbreed werewolves = more human.

Underneath, he writes in red ink,

> Derek Hale = Halfbreed

Then, the question arises, why do the Argents want to kill them? From the Hales he’s met today, they don't really seem like bad people. Strong and powerful, agreed. But killers? Not with the information they were given.

From what Dean had said about what Chris told him on the drive to Stanford, a young, teenage girl's body was found underneath a large tree in late July. Her corpse was probably rotting under there for maybe a year. Her visible injuries were a broken spine and a large bite mark on her side that bit through the skin and into the ribcage. She looked to be about sixteen - Stiles’ age, and the fact that Dean reminded him that he could've been under that tree made him squirm.

He relaxes back into the desk chair, staring at the ceiling. Now that he's meet them, he doubts the fact that they did it. Since Talia (who he's going to assume is the Alpha because usually halfbreeds will heavily watch over their pack) came to pick up Derek and was genuinely kind to Stiles when they met, there was no way she could have killed a teenage girl. She seems like the in-charge PTA mom, not a murderer. Still, there's a chance that she knows something, maybe even Derek too.

A loud thump sounds behind him, jolting Stiles from his thought process. He swivels his chair around to feel the cool breeze from outside against his face. There, crouched underneath the windowsill, is a teenage boy with swoopy bangs, a crooked jaw-line, and puppy-like eyes. The boy might be his age but Stiles can't tell since he looks incredibly young.

“Whoops,” he smiles cheekily, but his voice wavers and there are a few nervous laughs in there. “This isn't Allison's window, excuse me.”

The boy climbs out the window, his foot catching on the sill. Then, another figures’ shadow looms along his bedroom wall. There are some whispers traded back and forth between the two, and, in the end, the boy climbs out and Derek trades his spot.

As he crawls through, he moves much quieter than the other boy, other than the soft growls made through his teeth. “I really hate Scott sometimes.”

“Yeah, ruined your whole stealthy entrance and everything. Guess that just means another bad first impression for you. Although, the one you pulled at the school, wasn’t all that bad, just needs a little less roughhousing.” Stiles points out, his pen moving back and forth in his hand.

Derek gives him a look once he's on the carpet. Then, his fingers squeeze the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Just don't say anything. Even though I've told him not to see Allison anymore, Scott's not one to listen to anyone but my mom and aunt Melissa.”

“Good to know I'm not the only one with werewolves creeping through my bedroom window.” He sighs, turning his chair back around. "It's really a miracle you aren't screaming in agony, the whole house is practically covered in wolfsbane."

Derek glances to the opened window then points out the obvious. “There wasn't any-."

"Yeah, got that." With an eye roll, he spins around and leans back into the chair. "Now since we've apparently gotten to a first name basis and the house is full of hunters who wanna kill you, what are you doing here?”

"I came to talk to you." He moves closer to him, his footsteps silent against the carpet.

"You came to talk to me?" Stiles scoffs a laugh, looking back at him. "You barely know me, plus you shoved me into lockers on my first day of school and _now_ you're making the big, romantic gesture of hopping through my window to talk?"

"You wanna call it a 'big romantic gesture?'”

"Well, I-" A small wave of heat washes over him, and Stiles regrets he has such a big mouth. "I don't know what I'd call it but it certainly wasn't supposed to be that. The point is, you should leave."

"But this is-"

"Stiles," a small knock comes from the outside, "can I come in?"

"J-just a sec, Sam!" He mouths a swear word, locking eyes with Derek. He's already moving towards where he came in. Once he's out, Stiles moves to unlock his door and drops back into his chair.

"Why's your window open, it's 55 degrees outside,” Sam asks, sitting down to the corner of the bed. Kate strolls in behind him all casual and ghost-like, pretending as if she isn't there.

"When has California's climate ever bothered  you, Mr. Law School? Besides, it's stuffy in here, some fresh air won't kill me." He lies, hoping to God that Kate's nose doesn't pick up Derek's scent.

"Alright, kiddo," his brother's straight and serious face is broken by his big, worried eyes, "you wanna tell us your side of the story of what happened at school today?"

Kate scoffs, crossing her arms and shifting from one side to the other. “That's your opening line? Jesus, Sam, be creative, the kid was just mauled by a werewolf.”

He ignores her, rolling his eyes and letting out a long-held breath. "It was nothing, just a rough first day. And I didn't get mauled, it was just an accident.”

Sam tries to get a quick look at the claw marks, then scrunches his nose. "Yeah, I see that. Dean was right, he got you good. The only way he would’ve made it worse is if he bit you.”

“Now that I'm seeing it, I'll go grab some disinfectant and bandages.” It's a little surprising to see Kate care about him, so much so it makes him uncomfortable.

"Oh my God, it doesn't hurt, okay! I'm perfectly capable of keeping myself alive long enough for backup to come." Stiles blurts out, waving his hands.

He huffs, "well, according to Bobby, you're not quite ready. Dean says that you're better with melee weapons than any gun given to you."

Stiles takes a deep breath, taking a short glance at his journal and then returning his gaze to his brother. "I'm not here to kill anybody, Sam, I'm a researcher. Sure, I can defend myself and know all the specific ways to kill, but that doesn't change the morals I have."

“I know, kiddo. You're smart enough to take care of yourself, but Dean and I just want you to stay safe. And with us needing to find Dad, it's even more dangerous.”

He wants to tell Sam that he can handle it, all of it. All the information he's aware of, all the fighting techniques at Bobby's he’s learned, every single little detail. But he knows he can't because neither one of his brothers want him in on anything supernatural. They never do.

Instead of retaliating with that long explanation, he stiffly nods and stares down at the carpeted floor. The door creaks open and Kate returns with a box of medical supplies. Sam gives her a quiet ‘thanks’ and searches through the box. She smiles at him, gives Stiles the same look and leaves the room.

When Sam tries to get another look at the marks, Stiles pushes him away. “Dude, I can do this on my own. It's not like I haven't licked my own wounds before.”

“Okay, I hear you, you can do this on your own.” He stands, placing his hand on Stiles’ head and short hair, “Call us if you need help.”

The door shuts slowly, creaking until a click is audible, and the room feels still. Not even seconds later, a hand grasps tightly onto the windowsill and pulls. Derek's dark hair shows itself and soon his bunny teeth come into view.

He asks in a hushed voice, "is it clear?"

Stiles stares at him blankly, "I dunno, you tell me, oh great werewolf."

"Do you think they'll know?" he hops through the window, again with silent feet.

He raises a curious eyebrow with caution. "That you're here? Well, with the fact that you decided to enter a death trap, I think it's safe to say, they have no idea.”

"Not that," Derek softly growls, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, "something else."

"And that something else is?" Stiles trails off is a voice that pushes him to continue.

There's a long pause, as if the words Derek is struggling to get out of his mouth are forcibly trying to do the exact opposite of what he wants. Finally, they make complete eye contact and his green eyes flash golden for a split second. "What you mean to me."

Stiles practically falls right out of the desk chair at that. "Whoa, bucko, I just met you today. Take it slow and unless you're referring to friendship, we aren't anything."

His eyebrows furrow, "you can't sense it?"

"Oh yeah, I can totally tell what's going on between you and me with my human senses, Wolfy." Another dead stare is all Stiles gives him.  

"Nevermind," Derek grumbles softly, his head hanging low.  

He stands, moving toward the bed and picking up the box and placing it on the bedside table. "Seriously, you're not gonna tell me after saying it in such a heavy, predatory voice? If this is for some kind of protection, then I’ve heard it all before and am sick of it."

Derek's head remains still, but his eyes take a short glance in Stiles' direction, "I just don't know if you'll completely understand."

"Gee, I don't think I would, being a hunter who can kill werewolves, wendigos, witches, and more. There's no way I would!" After a moment, he feels bad for being snappy. Stiles moves closer, taking a seat next to him, their legs brushing softly against each other. "Look, Derek, will you please tell me what's going on."

“You said you're a researcher, right?” He says after a while, and Stiles nods in reply. “Have you ever researched werewolf mates before?”

“No, but can you explain them to me?” He quickly reaches for his journal, the red pen fitted in his hand.

He grumbles in a low tone. "If I tell you, will you give me information on what the Argents are planning?”

“That depends, will you help me with what I'm looking for?” Stiles retaliates, biting his lip.

Derek nods slowly, his eyes moving back and forth between his eyes and lips, “mates are incredibly important to a werewolf-”

“You mean a halfbreed, right," he corrects and Derek just gives him a long look. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.”

“Anyway, mates are important to a werewolf. They aren't just lovers, although, they can be, mates can help the wolf they’re bonded to, with the exception of an omega.” His eyes drift slowly to the pages of the journal, staring down as Stiles scribbles short versions of his explanation. "I didn't pin you as an artist."

"That's because these are my mom's. When we used to live here, Mom would make money off of her talent even if she had her job as a waitress." He finishes writing down Derek's information, then stares down at the wolf drawing. "She had to do as much as she could for me."

"No dad?"

"No dad," he replies, his fist enclosing tightly around the red pen. "Not until after she passed, then he came to get me."

Derek chuckles, leaning back onto the bed. "You don't sound very fond of him."

"Believe me, I don't consider that awful, jerk-off of a man as my father." He glances back at the open journal, "anything else I should know?"

Derek sighs, his hand raising above his head. “They can be each other's anchors or strengthen each other; I've heard that some mates can even turn into a wolf without being bitten, and can still stay their original species.”

Stiles watches in curiosity, placing his journal on his chest. Slowly, his nails grow into long, dirty claws and Stiles excitedly grabs it to inspect them. Derek's hand is rough, possibly from a school sport, but the warmth it holds is delightful. His claws are smooth to the touch and they look incredibly sharp. One day, maybe he'll sketch them.

His attention is quickly brought back to what Derek has said, “that sounds awesome! So, a human mate can turn into a wolf just because they have a bond with a werewolf?”

Derek hasn't moved his hand away, but he does look a bit uncomfortable. “I'm not sure if it works with humans at all, I think it only works with sparks.”

“Sparks?” Stiles jolts right up ecstatically. “What about sparks?”

A heavy eyebrow raises, “I thought you just were looking to know information about mates?”

His mind is a spiral and he's practically shouting. “Sparks are the whole reason I came here! You have to help me!  I need to- ”

"Stiles," Derek growls as quiet as he can, his hand taking his own, "you're going to give me away."

"Right, right, sorry." He feels his face flush for a long minute, "I just-"

"I know, please keep quiet for a moment. Then you can explain yourself." His voice is hushed, their bodies so close that Stiles can feel the body heat emanating off of Derek.

Stiles takes in a slow breath, barely even taking his eyes off his. "When I used to live in Beacon Hills, my mom did all sort of things. I don't remember everything she did, but the one thing I do was her practice in magic." He whispers, "she might even have been an emissary."

"How do you know she was one?"

He quickly flips to the front of the journal, showing off the multiple drawings. “All I know is that her drawings aren't just simple pictures, that she might have been a Spark and the drawings are a guidebook for me.”

Derek takes a glance at the book, then back at Stiles, before leaning in closer to get a better look. "And you want me to help you?"

"Only if you want to," he mumbles, pretending to pout.

"I do!" Derek shouts, but then says it again quieter "I do."

"Good, then we can hang out tomorrow," he smiles, gleefully snapping the journal closed.

"Are you sure that idea is safe?" He questions, watching Stiles move and place it on the desk.

"Probably not," Stiles answers, "but you do want to know why the Argents called us here, right?"

"Are you actually going to tell me or is this your way of trapping me?" Derek comments, adjusting himself off the sheets.

"Don't call it a trap! Think of this information as a doggie treat, dangling in front of your snout." He chuckles, returning to the bed with a mischievous grin.

A small growl leaves the back of his mouth, his claws extracting and reaching for his throat,  "that's not funny, Stiles."

"Hey, no claws!" He grabs ahold of his wrist, "You already banged me up once, don't make it worse."

Derek rolls his eyes, trying to get a better look at the marks, "just hold still."

For a second, he wants to resist, but once he starts to feel the light pain fade away, he doesn't. Stiles takes a glimpse at what Derek is doing and sees that his whole arm is covered in gray veins.  "What did you do?"

"Took some of the pain away." He explains, moving his arm away. He sighs into the pain and doesn't seem afraid of it.  "I couldn't do it earlier because I promised my mom I wouldn't shift at the school."

"And yet you did it anyway when you attacked me," Stiles mumbles, stating the obvious.

His ears become an intense shade of red, "I didn't attack you, my wolf took an interest in you!"

"Which means," Stiles shakes his head in exasperation with another push for an answer.

This time, Stiles doesn't even get a look at Derek as the wolf has already jumped up from the bed and takes quiet strides to the window. "Nope, I'm done talking about this!"

"Derek!" He cries, trying to catch the werewolf, "you can't just leave without explaining what that means!"

"Goodbye, Stiles, I'll see you at school," he slips through the open window and hops into the bushes.

"Wait, Derek, come back!" Stiles pops his head out the window, staring down as Derek gets back on his feet.

"You need to shut up now, or else I'm dead." He yells as quietly as he could, "and don't call me either."

"I don't even-!" He scoffs, pulling back into the room, "stupid secret-hiding wolf."

He plops down into the swivel chair, rubbing the crease of his nose with two fingers. Then, as if trying not to be quiet, he notices the door has creaked open enough for someone to stick their arm through. Stiles quickly runs to the door, opening it to see Allison with her phone in hand.

"Allison, no." He doesn't need to see that the camera setting was on.

"Oh, Allison, yes." She giggles, running back to her room.

" _Allison!_ " Stiles shouts, following behind to only get his face shoved into her slammed bedroom door. He bangs on it for a couple seconds but ultimately gives up, sliding his back against it in defeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!
> 
> Self Promotion (because why not)  
> Follow my Instagram (if you can and if you want) @clp_a_fanfic_writer to get updates on what's going on in my life.


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